Samsara
by Bai Hikari Tsubasa
Summary: "Sin, I will follow you till the end." When a promise couldn't be kept and dreams shattered. Companion story to Reincarnation (It makes more sense if you read Reincarnation first)


**Warning: character death**

The first thing that Ja'far became aware of was the faint scent of foreign tea permeating the air. It had a hint of spice in it, though pleasant enough as not to upset his sensitive sense of smell.

The second thing was the feeling of solid surface underneath his head. Based off the texture, he deduced that his head was lying on some sort of wooden furniture, which he quickly confirmed by peeking his eye open and surveying the scene before him.

The familiar scene of dozens of documents and an uncapped ink bottle nearby greeted his sight. Raising his head from the table, Ja'far found himself in an even more familiar office. Even though the room was styled in a decidedly Middle Eastern tone, it was still recognizable as an office workspace.

_I'm back_. Ja'far thought to himself, waiting for the presence to approach him again like it always did.

Sure enough, he felt the familiar sense of sluggishness as his consciousness retracted into the back of his mind. _Welcome back. Shall we continue our story?_

Ja'far nodded his head mentally, allowing the being to take control over his body and direct his line of sight down to the document lying in front of him. He was no longer surprised by the fact that he could understand the language even though it was written by a foreign hand. After all, nothing in this dream world made any sense, yet he would be lying if he said that he didn't have an inkling of what was happening.

_Read_, the voice ordered him calmly, drawing his attention back to the words. A strong surge of unease and anger shot through his being when he read the letter:

_Addressed to the government of Sindria, _

_His Royal Highness has denied your requests. There are no grounds for negotiations between our two countries. Submit now to the Great Kou Empire and we will take into consideration the well-being of your citizens._

Underneath the letter was stamped the Kou government seal, the crimson color looking like blood under the dim candlelight.

_This is grim news_. The voice whispered into Ja'far's mind as the white-haired man gritted his teeth in frustration. What was he going to tell his king when the man returned from his meeting with the Seven Seas Alliance?

A sudden wind picked up from the outside and blew out the candles, dousing the whole office in darkness.

"Ja'far."

"Wake up, Ja'far!"

Ja'far opened his eyes to see the worried faces of his fellow caravan members. The old healer in the caravan sighed in relief and assured him that it was just another episode. With enough rest and water, Ja'far was up and about again within a few hours.

One by one the members left the tent to allow Ja'far rest, but the young man couldn't go back to sleep, at least not after what he had just dreamt. Instead, he mulled over the contents of the letter he read during his blackout.

_The Kou Empire is coming._

~oOo~

The routines of the caravan were repetitive. They traveled year round, making stops at different places by invitation or when necessary to restock supplies. As far as Ja'far's memory went, he was always a caravan member. He heard that he was adopted at a young age for his particular hair and eye color, but he didn't give it any thought. The caravan provided him with all that he needed, and that was more than enough.

Every morning, the caravan set out just after sunrise and made their way to a new location. In the evenings, after the caravan had settled down, the members would disperse off to practice. Usually they trained in teams, but when the Boss realized Ja'far's stunning talents, he was put on solo performance. And so the white-haired man trained by himself all evening long until the dinner bell rang.

It was a known fact amongst the caravan members that Ja'far was naturally born with low blood pressure. He fainted quite often when he was young. While unconscious, he was assaulted with nightmares that left him trembling and whimpering, worrying the healer and caravan members to no end. The nightmares had seemed so real. The fact that they were interconnected scared him to no end. Last he heard, nightmares didn't run like an episodic series, they weren't supposed to be chronologically connected.

Then in his teenage years, Ja'far became aware of another person in his nightmares. That person would try to sooth him, encouraging him to hold on tight because it was worth it in the end. He tried asking the person what it was all about, but all he got was _patience, little one. _

Unable to obtain any answers from the being, Ja'far talked to the old healer about his nightmares and she had frowned contemplatively at him.

"It could be your past life."

"My past life?"

The old healer sighed as she stroked Ja'far's hair. "When you die, your soul would return to the flow of fate, only to be reborn in a new life. That is why they say that babies cry so much when they were first born – because they still remember their past lives and are unable to express themselves about it. But as time goes on, these memories faded, only occasionally popping up in one's dreams as meaningless scenes."

"So it is not normal for me to continue dreaming them?" Ja'far rested on his elbow as he looked worryingly at the healer.

"No, it is not." The healer agreed. "However, there are special circumstances where a person possesses a stronger connection with their past life."

"Special circumstances?"

"One case is when the person has a higher spiritual energy than the rest, such that they can actually connect all their memories and wisdom from past lives. You have heard of the Dalai lamas and all other sorts of religious leaders throughout the world, haven't you?"

"But I am not a spiritual leader." Ja'far's eyebrow creased.

"The other situation," the old woman continued, "is when you have an unfinished task or un-severed tie to your past. For example, you could have been killed before you accomplish something. Or, you have a strong tie to a person or place that you cannot leave behind and the feelings carried on to this life."

"An unfinished business...or a person…" Ja'far trailed off, trying to think if there is anything in his dreams that could have ignited those feelings.

"Perhaps you should go on with your dreams to learn what all this is about." The old healer smiled kindly at him.

"Perhaps." Ja'far conceded. He didn't voice his thoughts out to the healer, but could it be that his failure to capture the dungeon capturer cause all these dreams?

~oOo~

_God_, if it was his past life, Ja'far hated his earlier years. It was like being trapped in an abyss – news of the outside world rarely reached him and his mind and body was conditioned only for specific assignments. It was small wonder that his worldview was narrowed into only one dogma: kill or be killed.

The worst moment was when he returned to the organization after a failed attempt at the dungeon capturer's life. Failure was not something tolerated in the organization, no matter how prized, how _skilled_ their assassin was. One failure was tantamount to uselessness, and the organization made sure of that.

Ja'far remembered being chained inside a dark room, screaming as a hot knife pressed deeply into his calves, dragging ever so slowly down to his ankle. The searing pain was unbearable, eating away at his nerves and sanity until all he could do was open his mouth in a soundless scream. Prior to that they had forced him to swallow pills that stimulated his adrenaline system, making sure that the hormones pumping through his veins kept him conscious and awake throughout the whole process. Ja'far squeezed his eyes shut as the knife pressed in again, this time on his other calf, and the same procedure repeated itself. He could feel the eyes of a dozen other assassins calmly assessing his torture, memorizing down his pain such that they don't repeat the same mistake in the future. Ja'far wanted to succumb to darkness so badly, to just die and be over with the process; but it was too slow, too excruciating. His torturer was skilled with the blade, making sure that it was deep enough to leave a permanent scar, but avoiding major artery points to prevent a quick death.

Finally, the organization seemed satisfied with what they had done to his legs. Ja'far was forced roughly into a sitting position, his chin tilted sharply upwards by a hard yank on the chains around his neck to look into their leader's eyes.

"You are of no use to us anymore."

That was the last word they gave him before throwing him outside in the desert, believing that blood loss, infection, dehydration or predation by wild beasts would end him. And Ja'far truly believed that it was his end too when the sun beat upon his back, literally scorching him alive.

He thought he was hallucinating when he saw two pairs of boots close to him, shouted words that he could not understand in his current state and finally, sweet, blissful darkness.

Ja'far woke up with a start, realizing that the sun was not quite over the horizon yet.

_Sinbad._

That was the name that stuck in his mind whenever he woke up from his dreams. Ironically, the dungeon conqueror that his past self had been assigned to kill was also his savior – upon discovering Ja'far near-death in the desert, Sinbad had taken him in and nursed him back to life. Asked why the man did something as outrageous as that, and Sinbad only shrugged, saying that no one should be abandoned in the wilds. By and by, Ja'far followed him and became his most trusted parliamentary officer. Who would have thought that the scraggy little assassin could become so well-versed in the arts of inks and math?

Ja'far rubbed his eyes and get out of bed. It was still too early to meditate over what he had seen in his latest dream. He could use a few practice before their caravan move out again.

~oOo~

Many people associate the Sindrian nights with romance and party. The well-lit streets with just enough dark corners for clandestine activities, lined with beer stores and snack vendors and topped by floral decorations emitting wafts of perfume into the air land a romantic atmosphere to the country. This was the time when couples meet and pair off, enjoying their night together after a day of hard work; single individuals were also seen loitering around the area, hoping to snatch a date or two.

All these were wasted on Ja'far, who spent most of his nights either working or sleeping. Occasionally, there was a 'hitch' that he needed to take care of. Tonight was one of those nights.

Ja'far sighed as he skirted through the alleys and buildings, pulling his bandages tighter about his face to avoid the wind. He blended carefully with the shadows and backgrounds, passing by people without anyone noticing his presence.

Tonight was one of those nights when he had to go rat-hunting. Sindria was a relatively big country after all and it was not uncommon for unwelcomed pests to be scampering about. Usually they were monitored closely by his spies, but sometimes when the rat was especially nasty, Ja'far had to handle the situation _personally_.

_There_. Ja'far located a local tavern bustled with people. His information network had documented the person's presence in the bar for consecutive nights. Ja'far supposed that was the most beneficial spot to gather information, when people's lips were loose after a few wine or two and when they were more than welcoming of a stranger.

The ex-assassin slipped inside the tavern and hid in a corner, eyes vigilant as he watched his target move about. The man was of a slight built and dressed in casual robes, looking just like any other commoner on the streets. If he was any normal person, Ja'far would have overlooked the man too; but Ja'far was an ex-assassin, trained in the art of observing and analyzing. He could tell from the way the man moved that his movements were a bit _too_ fluid, his eyes a bit _too_ sharp and his ears a bit _too_ keen. This was their man.

Ja'far waited patiently for a few hours until the man left the tavern, slipping quickly after him to ensure that he didn't lose sight of his target. When he saw the target took a turn into a winding alley, he took the chance to pounce the man.

A flash of metal and several knots had the man tied and pressed into the ground. Ja'far carefully applied pressure unto the man's jugular to prevent any sound escaping his target.

"Now tell me what information the Kou Empire desires by having you infiltrate this place." He lifted his blades from the man's throat slightly, though still hovering over it as a warning should the man take the opportunity to scream.

"There is no information to give. Your country might as well surrender to the Kou Empire right now. You have seen our prowess when we destroyed your pathetic fleet."

Ja'far hissed and used the flat of his blades to slap across the man's face, delighting slightly in the pained gasp from the man. The pain and loss from the hundreds of ships sunk to the ocean floor was still fresh in his mind. He remembered how desperate Sinbad had seemed when he stood in the rain. "Why did you sink those ships? They were only mercenary ships headed for Aktia."

The man spat on the ground in front of him, curving his smile into a sneer. "I don't need to answer to you."

He hated it when they were difficult. He hated it even more when they were a smart-mouth. "What. is. your. motive."

"Who knows?" The man smirked and there was a glint in his eyes that Ja'far didn't like. Before the white-haired man could react though, the person lunged forward, his throat purposefully bared towards the blades.

Ja'far cursed and leap off the dead man, subconsciously wiping his blades against his cloak. This was not the first time an interrogation session had failed, but it certainly didn't help the sickening feeling that he had in his stomach. None of the spies that he sent had been successful in sieving out information about the Kou Empire's plan of actions.

All he knew was that they were coming. It could be the next day. Or the next year. Maybe even a decade later. With the Kous, it was always hard to predict their motion. One would think that being such a huge empire, there were leaks on their military movement, but they had been surprisingly tenacious about keeping their actions under wrap.

Ja'far nodded to his other spies for them to dispose of the body. He sped back to the palace, mouth set in a grim line.

~oOo~

He heard that the new place they were traveling to was an island located in the Southern end of the continent. It was renowned for its trade and tourism industry, having attracted people from far and wide.

Ja'far narrowed his eyes against the glare of the sun as he watch the black spot in the distance grow larger. At this rate, they would reach the island by nightfall, which would provide them with a good opportunity to move their caravan through the streets without attracting too much attention. The last time they had traveled to a highly populated city, they had been bombarded the moment they reach their destination. It was one thing to act all friendly and smiling in front of curious onlookers; it was another when they have to make sure that none of the curious onlookers got _too_ curious. Ja'far recalled how they found pieces of stage props and personal items missing or broken when they visited Italy. Pickpockets can be unfortunately deft in pilfering things when everyone else was occupied by onlookers.

He took one last glance before heading under the decks. Perhaps he could grab an hour of nap or two before they reach land.

The first sign of something being off was the silence of the evening night. _Not _the silence of the streets though. It was still as crowded as ever. Rather, if Ja'far could put a finger to it, it was how silent the atmosphere was. Even though the people were celebrating another day of harvest and the waves were flowing calmly in the sea, there was something very off-putting about the whole thing.

"What is it, Ja'far?"

Ja'far darted his eyes back to his king, who was finishing up another document. "Nothing."

"You know I can read you better than this." Sinbad said without looking up from his parchment. "There is something bothering you tonight."

"It's...the situation with the Kou Empire has been irking me lately. We have no confirmed information regarding their movements."

"We _can_ confirm though that they are moving their army?"

"Yes," Ja'far went over and retrieved a scroll from the build-in shelves. He laid it before his king. It was a map detailing the routes between Sindria and the continent. Ja'far used his fingers to lightly trace several routes. "We have knowledge that they place their army here and here, but our intel could not retrieve any information on the army size, plan of attack and routes they are going to take. At most, we can hypothesize several attack routes. However…" He trailed off, frowning.

"However?" Sinbad looked questioningly back at him.

"These hypothetical situations have been based solely on our knowledge of their normal soldiers. Throw in their metal vessel users and household vessels, and I'm afraid that the possibilities of their attacks are endless." Ja'far sighed and leaned back from the map. "We don't even know what their djinns are capable of."

Sinbad hummed as he mulled over the situation. They have five metal vessel users and a Magi at their back. They also heard rumors that the first prince and princess had hundreds of household members. There were so many unknown factors at play that it was no wonder Ja'far was high-strung.

Ja'far glanced over at his king's expression and frowned. "You are hoping that they will attack, aren't you?" He was rewarded with the quick flit of guilt across his king's eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can read you just as well as you can read me. You were hoping that they will attack so you can justify yourself when you fight back. You are still seeking for retribution for the people that they sunk."

Sinbad looked away, not willing to meet Ja'far's eyes. "Sometimes, some things are hard to let go of. Is it selfish for me to seek revenge?"

"But—"

It was then that the sizzling in the night sky became audible. Both men shared a quick look before they dash towards the window.

There, in the distance, was a cumulonimbus cloud gathering. It was practically sizzling with energy as it moved towards the island country. Even commoners on the street could feel the tension in the air as they flee to the safety of their homes. How they had managed to miss the agglomeration of energy was beyond their comprehension. The Kou Empire either had a way of cloaking their powers, or they manage to transport the whole army through a magical portal.

"They will be knocking on our gates soon. Get prepared." Sinbad commanded as his hand went to his sword.

"They are much stronger than before, what with the Black Magi on their side. The prospect is not good." Ja'far folded his hands into his sleeves, feeling his blades sing with the power of the djinn so close to him. They needed to assess the enemy quickly to determine the best course of action.

"If you want to hide, feel free to. By no means stop because of me."

Ja'far glared at his king, but managed to breathe in deep and relax his shoulders. He should know by now that Sinbad could get a bit provocative when he was excited. "I understand your impatience, Sin. But please don't rush to battle without a strategy and backup plan at hand. We must wait for the spies to return first." He closed his eyes patiently as he felt the tension between them grew.

_This is the worst timing possible_, Ja'far thought to himself. They were caught unprepared with tons of civilians still out in the open.

"And wait for them to break down the gates? Just in case you don't remember, they aren't exactly the most polite of people. You can't expect them to knock before they come in."

"I am just saying-"

"Hey Ja'far, can you even hear what I am saying?"

Ja'far felt someone shaking his shoulders before he snapped his eyes open to look at the caravan boy before him. The boy sighed in relief when he opened his eyes. "Welcome back to the world of the waking."

It was a bit disorienting for Ja'far to be jolted out so suddenly from his dreams. He could only nod his head slightly to acknowledge the other person before looking around him. "Are…we there yet?"

"Of course, why'd you think I woke you up?" The boy grinned toothily and got up. "Hurry up, we are still unloading."

"Coming." Ja'far replied as he brushed himself off before following the boy.

~oOo~

To say wordless or stunted was an understatement for Ja'far. The moment he stepped off the ship and beheld the island before him, he thought he had fainted somehow and was pulled back into his dream world. The same grid work of streets, the same structures made of white clay and the same cheerful people in the distance – it was all too real. Throughout their journey towards their temporary camp, Ja'far tuned out the tour guide's comments in favor of obtaining as much sensory information as he could. He watched the people closely, listening to their laughter and smelling the air carefully. Granted, it was not completely identical to the senses in his dreams, but it was similar enough to throw him off kilter.

He excused himself as soon as he finished unpacking his things inside his tent. The Boss waved him off, reminding him that he should get enough sleep in preparation for the performance a few days from now. Ja'far nodded before wandering around the streets.

He didn't need a tour guide to tell him where he was heading. Even though there were some changes, most of it was still recognizable enough for Ja'far to navigate through. If this was how the island was like now, Ja'far wondered what had happened in the war between Sindria and Kou. Did that mean they won the war and was able to retain their island? But at what cost?

Ja'far found himself pacing the outer walls of the palace – no, he reminded himself, this was a private estate owned by a wealthy man, it was no longer the palace of old. He had no rights to trespass the property, no matter how much urge he had to take a look inside.

But it wouldn't hurt to take a quick peek, would it?

Deeming that no one was watching, Ja'far quickly bounded over the gates and into the compound. Much as he had already expected, the design was identical to the palace in his dreams. Ja'far sneaked past the scant securities and weaved through the corridors, admiring the resemblance of the building to that in his dreams. He stopped himself when he saw an open garden in the interior.

'_It will be alright, I promise you. It will be.'_

This was the place where Sinbad had made a false promise to him before things went down. Ja'far wrapped his arms around himself as he recalled the warmth of being embraced by his king. The night back then had seemed so peaceful. Who would have predicted an attack so soon?

Suddenly the world spun and Ja'far leaned towards one of the trees. It was another one of his episodes. He sank down to his knees and clutched at his head. The dizziness only grew stronger before his vision blacked out.

The screams of horror tore through the night. It was as if he was reliving one of his childhood memories, except this was a lot worse. To see the peaceful Sindria fall into such chaos was frightening.

It was unacceptable.

Ja'far leapt down the staircase, taking two at a time, all the while throwing out orders to people around him.

"Leave the paperworks behind!"

"Take the young, old and women through the emergency escape route!"

"You there, find the generals and inform me of their positions!"

Ja'far tried to project calmness onto everyone. Even if they were surprised, they needed to react properly. He noted with satisfaction as he watched the throngs of civilians being moved out of the area. In the distance he could already hear the start of war.

_Damn it all_, Ja'far cursed inwardly as he flung another enemy body into the ground. He needed to assist his king now, but the onslaught of enemy members seemed unending. He managed to trip another and lodge his blades firmly into the man's neck before pulling out, eyeing the few others around him. There was no time to formulate any plans other than pulling his king out of the fray and retreating first. Sometimes the best course of action would be to step back and better prepare themselves. They could always send for help from the Seven Seas Alliance…

It was the blasting heat and crackle of electricity that informed Ja'far that he was getting close to his king. He could already make out the silhouette of Sinbad engaged in battle with Kouen. _Almost there_…

But Ja'far caught himself as he felt a looming presence approach them. He casted his eyes upward and gawked at the sight of Judal floating casually towards them. There was madness in the Magi's eyes.

_Shit_.

Throwing all cautions to the wind, Ja'far sped towards Sinbad. He thrust his way through the enemy's throngs and reached in time to see icicles speeding towards the two royalties.

"Sin!"

Ja'far didn't know if he shouted the name out loud or inside his mind as a particularly large icicle sped towards the purple-haired man. At such a distance, there were only a few options. He could throw his wires out to snag Sinbad back, but risk having his wires buffered by the wild winds that blew around them when Judal used his magic. The other option is to run in and seize Sinbad out, at the risk of killing himself. The choice was obvious.

Ja'far darted forward as the icicle was about to collide with Sinbad. There was numbness in his back, causing him to exhale sharply. Nonetheless, Ja'far used the momentum from his run to throw Sinbad out of harm's way. The sensation of ice prickling inside him was surprisingly unpainful. It was probably because his insides have already froze because of the cold.

Using whatever energy he had left, Ja'far shook Sinbad roughly. "Sin, Sin! Are you okay?" He sighed in relief when his king rubbed his own head and opened his eyes.

"Ja…Ja'far?"

Aside from the wounds obtained from battle with Kouen, there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary with Sinbad. "Thank heavens you are fine. I thought I made it too late." He winced as an ice prickled at his flesh. Ah, so there were still _some _sensations left.

Ja'far didn't listen properly to what Sinbad said before grabbing his king, or so he thought. His hands were weaker than he gave credit for, and all he managed was a useless grapple at the man's sleeves. "You need to get out of here, fast. The Kou army is temporarily cowed because of Judal's crazy attacks. There's not much time left." _Get out and think of a counterattack plan. Our people need your guidance right now. _ He needn't say that for Sinbad to get the message. He closed his eyes and flopped against Sinbad's chest.

"Hey, don't joke around. _We_ need to get out of here. Come on, get up, do something."

_Like I can do much_. Ja'far scoffed to himself, his limited strength the only thing preventing him from rolling his eyes. "Still as stubborn as ever. You should already know that nothing can change the situation." He already made his bet when he threw himself in between Sinbad and the oncoming icicle; he already knew the outcome and consequences of his action. It was not something that he regretted.

"You said that you will follow me till the end!"

_And you said that everything would be alright. I guess we both lied._

"Sorry, I lied. Guess old habits die hard." Ja'far forced a smile onto his face. It was a feat that was rather difficult at the moment. His vision was already swimming and closing in on him. "Ah, just remember to not let the office work pile up too much when I…"

And then he was gone, the blackness finally engulfing him.

_This is the end of our story._ The presence in Ja'far's mind whispered, caressing his hair soothingly.

"Why did you tell me this?"

_We left our king behind, we broke our promise. We did not see him through till the end. _The presence shifted slightly to stay beside Ja'far. _It is this longing that kept me here. But now that I have passed on my story to you, I guess it is about time I go as well. _

Slowly by slowly, the presence disappeared. Ja'far tried grabbing unto the being, but it slipped through his fingers. He could no longer feel the comforting presence. What was the purpose of showing him a story that might as well be a fairytale?

Ja'far awoke with a start to realize he was still in the compound. The moon was still high in the sky, but judging from its position, Ja'far needed to make his way back soon before the Boss freaked out. He brushed himself off, casting one last look at the building before rushing his way out.

~oOo~

It was the day of the performance and Ja'far stayed in the backstage, whetting his knives carefully. He could hear the awed gasps and delighted laughter from the audience as usual – everyone was always surprised by their performance. Even though he was not one to brag, Ja'far had to acknowledge that their caravan was top-notched. Only a rare few could have bested them in terms of agility and flashiness.

"Now for our final finale, the quickest, the quietest and the deadliest of them all, we present to you, the Assassin!"

Ja'far's lips quirked into a wry smile. No matter how many times he heard it, it was still cheesy.

He aimed for the highest wires and swung himself up upon it with a powerful kick. Without any hesitation, he turned his body in the air, driving his blades into the papers that they had released from the top of the stage. It was no big deal. Having performed the trick so many times, Ja'far was already well aware of how to angle his blades for the best impact. He landed lightly upon the stage, watching in satisfaction as the papers rained down upon the audience.

"Now we need a volunteer for the next performance! Your one and only chance to be onstage with the Assassin!"

Ja'far groaned inwardly. Let's hope that the volunteer this time around had half a mind. He didn't want a repeat of the devastation last time when the audience had been too finicky. He almost gutted her when she wouldn't stop fidgeting.

"Me!"

Ja'far's head snapped up towards the voice. Lo and behold, it was Sinbad! The purple shock of hair was still as idiosyncratic as his being. He gaped dumbly as the man made his way slowly to the stage. The smirk on the man's face informed him that Sinbad had already recognized him.

Ja'far tried really hard to control his own actions, tried not to just run up to the man and ask him about how he had been. Ah, but even so, what should he even say to his supposedly former king?

The problem was solved when Sinbad took the initiative to cross the stairs and pass his hands across Ja'far's bangs while removing Ja'far's bandage. A confuse murmur passed through the audience.

"Heh, it seems that I have found you at last, my little liar. Now who is the one that will follow the other till the end?"

Ja'far smiled. "You are still as stubborn as ever, my king."


End file.
